That Moment When
by fangsallmine1123
Summary: That awkward moment between birth and death. Fax. Collection of one-shots. [Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride. All rights reserved to James Patterson. No infringement or copyright intended.]
1. Chapter 1

**That Moment When**

**Summary: That awkward moment between birth and death. Fax. Probably a one-shot. **

**A/N: Hey. Look at me, spitting out stories like nobody's business. I need a LIFE. Or, maybe just a life that isn't so dedicated to you peeps. **

**Oh, whatever. It makes me happy. **

**I realized with this idea that I can literally get inspiration from ANYTHING. Like, Jumanji and Monster? Just from a walk in Wal-Mart. But this story is inspired by a tweet that some awkward kid on Twitter posted, and I thought it was hilarious. He was like, "That moment between birth and death #awkward".**

**I'm watching Daniel Tosh on TV, and all I can say is: I want this man. **

"**Someone got me a Snuggie for a joke gift. Ha. Jokes on you; I enjoy it." **

**Disclaimer: **_**Hullo**_**? We all know I'm not JP. JP owns the Maximum Ride clan. 'Kay? Cool.**

**This story has no specific time period…but we can assume Max and Fang are together. Because, really, when **_**don't **_**we assume that? **

**Right. **

**WARNING: Lots of awks, guys. Because that's just how I do.**

**So. There **_**may**___**be more chapters, ONLY if I get requests. Deal? **

**Prompt: That moment when your boyfriend sees something he shouldn't. **

MAX

I think whoever runs my life is just plain bored. That must be why they decided to pick on me, out of all the poor souls on the Earth.

It's like, hello? Mother Nature? God? Zeus? Buddha? Um…Universe?

_Why me? _

I mean, I've already been dealt a lot of shit, if you think about it. I do not have an easy life. I think the Big Guy upstairs (or Big Gal, more power to ya) just likes watching me experience the raw cruelties of our world. I think he/she wants to see how much I can take when it comes to brutal humiliation. I mean, it's true, I can take a _lot _of brutal humiliation. By now, it's practically second nature.

That has got to be why this happened to me. It's the only explanation.

So, we were on the run. Story of my life. Like, literally. Some people say, "Oh, failed a math test, story of my life!"

Oh, sorry? Didn't know that your _entire life _was about you failing math repeatedly. That sucks, and I'll pray for you.

But really. Our lives _did _revolve around running, so we were doing what we did best. For at least the past month - felt like a year - we'd been living in the woods or caves, even a few days in the desert. You could think of it like a road trip, but not nearly as enjoyable. And, lets admit it, since when are road trips enjoyable?

Whatever. Today we'd been flying since nine AM, and we were somewhere over Georgia. I wasn't really sure and I didn't really care - we were just staying on the move in case someone decided to track us down and attack us. It was about five-ish, I'd say.

"Max!" Nudge called.

I turned my head to glance at her. She was a ways behind Fang, Iggy and I. Gazzy and Angel were keeping up pretty well with Nudge's pace.

She didn't look so great.

"Can we stop somewhere? Like, a real hotel or something? Just for tonight? I don't think I can handle another night in a tree, Max."

I was about to shoot down the offer before anyone got their hopes up, but one quick look at all the others made me hesitate. They'd been putting in long hours of constant flying for the past week, and we hadn't had a decent meal or beds in…longer than that.

Not too mention it was pretty chilly, and sleeping outside on the cold, hard ground did not sound the least bit appealing.

One look at Fang and I knew he was thinking the same thing. Shocker.

Whatever. That's why they pay him the big bucks.

"Alright," I said, turning to stare down at the town we were flying over. "Let's find somewhere."

Nudge praised the Lord loudly enough for us all to hear and then we started scouting out a place to sleep. Since this was the first time in a month that we were going to sleep in actual beds (what can I say? We like to splurge), I allowed us to push it a little with the price range.

We hit an ATM down the street from the hotel before getting a room. Two beds, one pull out couch - why would I need to spend fifty bucks on another room? We could squeeze in for one night. I was pretty sure the kids would be grateful as long as they didn't have to sleep in trees tonight.

Once in the room, Iggy headed straight for the couch and he and Fang pulled out the mattress. Angel and Gazzy were sharing one of the beds, and me and Nudge got the other. I sat on the edge of my bed and kicked off my shoes, looking around the room. Gazzy started flipping through the TV channels while Angel read the guide to find out which was Disney Channel.

Suddenly, a small something hit me in the face. I started, looking around the room until my eyes landed on Nudge, who was standing by the small table in the corner, holding a stationary pad and a pen. At my feet was a small crumpled up note.

_You got stuff?_

Shortest question I've ever gotten from Nudge, btw. Except, she didn't say it out loud. You can be the judge of whether or not that counts.

Anyways. Being girls on the run is not easy. If you think everything else just halts for your convenience, you are dead wrong. But…to spare the guys from having to deal with our girl issues, we try to be as inconspicuous as possible. Obviously, that doesn't work 100% of the time.

I sighed and got up grabbing my backpack.

"Front pocket," I said, handing it to her. "Leave my bag in there."

Nudge nodded in thanks and shuffled off to the bathroom. Angel asked me for food, so I started to take everyone's order for pizza.

As Nudge exited the bathroom, I asked, "What kind of pizza you want, Nudge?"

She laid down on her side on our bed and closed her eyes. "Everything but mushrooms. Wake me up when it gets here."

I sighed, looking at Fang. He shrugged. "We picking it up?"

I nodded. "The less that know where we are, the better. Ig, hold down the fort."

"Sir, yes sir," Iggy saluted, then relaxed back on the mattress and closed his eyes. I slipped into my shoes. Fang stood up and opened the glass door that led to the hotel room's patio.

"We'll be back soon," I said. There was an almost silent chorus of answers. They love me.

Fang and I flew over town until we saw a small pizza shop.

We finally found a place to stop and landed in an empty parking lot that belonged to what appeared to be a shut down strip mall.

When we got inside, Fang walked up to the counter and ordered his two pizzas.

"Will that be all for you?" the man asked.

"No," I said, pushing Fang aside. "Okay, let's see. One meat lover's, one pepperoni and pineapple, one with everything minus the mushrooms, two bacon, sausage and onion, and two everything. All large."

Fang smirked and forked over the cash we had left over from the ATM. As the guy turned to go into the kitchen, Fang pulled me to his chest.

"Mmm, we should've gotten our own room," he said in my ear.

"Yeah, dream on," I said, leaning against him. He kissed my head.

"You think we should go back to your mom's for a while?"

"I wish," I said. "I feel like we're too much of a burden on her. Not to mention we can't guarantee she and Ella would be safe."

I felt him nod.

"Maybe we should just hotel hop for a while," I offered.

"Home sweet hotel," Fang mused, letting me know that he really didn't mind either way, as long as the hotel didn't have complimentary dog cages.

"Yeah," I said. "Too bad you're bunking with Ig."

"Not my first choice," he said, smirking down at me.

"I could've guessed." I glanced across the store at the people bustling behind the counter.

"It doesn't have to be that way," he said quietly.

Before I could say _Yeah it does, buddy_, the dude called my name and Fang and I were presented with a new task: flying with nine pizzas back to the hotel.

When we got back, everyone fell on the food like, well, Erasers. The only sound to be heard was loud chewing and swallowing. The occasional burp. You'd think all from the guys, but you'd be wrong. The _lungs _on that six year old, I swear.

I finished my pizza first and, after chugging the rest of my soda, went to go change into my pajamas. I remembered that my bag was still in the bathroom so I got up, threw my pizza box on the table in the corner and walked into the pristine, white bathroom. It looked like someone had taken a shower, which _did _explain Angel's newly-invigorated curls now that I thought about it.

I hefted my backpack up onto the counter and, in that moment, the small front pocket filled with…ahem…girl stuff, decided to explode and send those…things…all over the room.

_Marvelous_.

Cursing Nudge and her inability to zip pockets, I got down on my hands and knees and started gathering my stuff up off the floor. I mean, like I was gonna leave them there? Please. It was like attack of the feminine hygiene in there. And you know, if I missed just one on the floor or something, the guys would be doomed. So I started picking them up, one by one, and putting them in the pocket of my bag.

There was a knock at the door. Good thing I locked it…this was _not _one of my best moments.

"Max, I gotta take a leak."

"Well, Fang," I huffed. "You're going to have to wait!"

Finally, I grabbed the last one and shoved it in my bag. I yanked the zipper closed and then hurriedly got ready for bed. After that ordeal was finished, I unlocked the door and opened it to see Fang staring down at me. He moved past me into the bathroom.

"It's all yours," I muttered.

Just as I was about to leave, Fang said, "Uh…Max."

I turned around. He looked choked. His face was drained of all life. He almost couldn't look me in the eye.

"What?"

He pointed at the toilet.

I walked over to him and peeked around his shoulder, only to see a wrapped tampon floating in the water.

_Oops, must've missed one_, I thought to myself.

I swear to you, I let out the most un-ladylike snort I've ever made in my life when I saw that.

I'd say "story of my life", but I can honestly tell you this does not happen to me _ever_. I'm not that lucky.

I could almost contain my laughter until Fang shot me a look that showed me he was so uncomfortable and so undeserving of this embarrassment. I guess I'm just an insensitive cow or something, but I _lost it_, crying with laughter, tears rolling down my cheeks. I had to hold onto his arm so I wouldn't fall over. He stood emotionless and stiff beside me, probably wondering why the hell I thought it was funny since he was the definition of awkwardly uncomfortable. Oh well.

I pointed down at it, the small pink product floating in the toilet bowl, and squeaked out through my laughter:

"Honey, that's _not _how you use it."

**A/N: Reviews are so encouraged it's almost mandatory. If you enjoyed this you could at least tell me what your favorite part was…?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Is it bad that it's **_**really **_**easy for me to think up awkward situations? **

**Prompt: That moment when you're caught trying to get your boyfriend out of his pants. **

I can honestly say that I have no idea how that knife got in Fang's leg.

I mean, we were baking _cookies_.

That does not require a knife. Even _I _know that!

And yet there we were. I was standing over him, holding a bowl of flour and whatnot, and he was sitting on the floor. Both of us staring in shock at the huge knife sticking out of his thigh.

You see, we'd been home alone and bored until Fang said, "Let's make cookies." So of course, I agreed that it was a completely _foolproof _plan and we started our descent into hell. Seriously. _Why _does Iggy like baking? Never again. I swear.

I don't know how it happened. My back was turned, and I was mixing the flour with the sugar because for some reason those have to be combined first, and then Fang said, "Oh, shit."

And he had a knife in his leg.

"I'm gonna throw up," I moaned, dropping the bowl at my feet and sending flour all over the place. After the cloud of flour dissipated, I just saw Fang and the knife. Guh.

"Max-"

"No, I'm really going to be sick," I said, pressing my fingers to my cheeks.

"Are you going to help me?" Fang said gruffly from the floor, staring at the blade sticking out of his thigh. Probably wondering how to overcome this particular obstacle.

I made a gagging sound as I tried to hold down my breakfast. "Help you - ew, Fang, don't!"

But he did. He pulled it out.

I screamed.

"Max, will you shut up?" he shouted. He was frustrated because I was grossed out because he was in a truck ton of pain.

It was just an all around bad experience for the both of us.

Then his dark jeans started getting darker. Fast.

"Oh, my God," I groaned. I mean, I'm not squeamish or anything. I don't faint at the sight of blood. But, when there is a _lot _of blood…

I keep my distance.

"Ew, stop!"

"I can't just stop bleeding," Fang said through gritted teeth.

I covered my eyes. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it feels like a fucking rainbow," Fang said, glaring up at me. "You are completely useless right now, you know that, Max?"

I bit my lip and kneeled down next to him in the flour. "Uh…I'll go get the first aid kit."

"Brightest idea you've had all day," Fang muttered. "Hurry."

As I busted into the bathroom to find the small white box, I shouted, "Why did you have a knife, anyways?"

"I was opening the bag of chocolate chips," Fang said evenly.

"Well, you opened your leg instead," I said, grabbing the kit and running back into the room. "Ever heard of scissors-Oh!"

I slipped on the flour and landed next to Fang, jarring his hurt leg.

"Damn it, Max," Fang growled. "What the hell were you running for?"

"You told me to hurry!" I defended. I sat up and inspected him.

The stain of blood on his jeans had gotten surprisingly larger. I looked at him, then tentatively touched his leg. "Take your pants off."

He stared at me. "You have to take me out first."

"Fang, seriously."

"I am serious."

"I can't bandage you up if you still have your pants on," I reasoned.

"Then don't bandage me up. It's not that bad."

I reached forward and started undoing his belt.

"Why do you wear a belt?" I asked in irritation, trying to undo the complicated buckle.

"So it's harder for you to rape me," he said, swatting my hands away.

"In your dreams."

He smirked at me. Ugh. Boys.

"Fang," I rolled my eyes, dismissing his frustration. "Do you want to bleed to death on the kitchen floor?"

"I'm not going to die because of a tiny cut," Fang said.

"You had to _yank _the knife out of your leg!" I looked down at his soaked jeans. "You're still bleeding! A whole lot!"

"You don't have to shout."

I rolled my eyes, going back to his belt. "Seriously, there is nothing under there I haven't seen before."

"I beg to differ."

I finally got it undone and pulled, hard, yanking it out of the loops. "Why, are you going commando under there?"

"So what if I am?"

Well, now he was just teasing me.

Guess what? Two can play at that game.

"Don't care," I said. "Just…pretend I'm being seductive."

"Your hands are down my pants," Fang pointed out. "I don't have to pretend."

I blushed. "If you would do this yourself, I wouldn't have to help you undress."

"You don't have to, you just _want _to. You probably stabbed me on purpose. You'd do anything to get me out of my pants."

"I didn't stab you!" I said, glaring at him. "You stabbed yourself, idiot!"

"Max, I know you want me."

I yanked the zipper of his jeans down, hard.

"Do you have to be so rough?"

"What, am I too much woman for you?" I sneered.

"I guess we'll find out," he said.

"You are _infuriating_," I exclaimed. "Take your pants off."

"Ask me nicely."

"Fang, please take your pants off."

Fang smirked at me, obviously enjoying this more than the average teenage boy should.

"_Sexier_."

I smiled sweetly, leaned in really close to his face and breathed, "Fang, honey. Drop your pants."

Fang stared at me. "You're gonna have to work on that 'sexy' thing."

"Just take your pants off already so I can see it!"

So, you and I both know that by 'it', I meant the cut on Fang's leg.

Mom and the kids didn't know that.

"Really?" Mom said from behind me. "In the kitchen, guys?"

I jumped turning around. All of their eyes were on us. Or, more specifically, on my hands that were pulling down Fang's pants. "Oh," I said, my face getting hot. "Hello."

"Max is trying to rape me," Fang said with a straight face.

I smacked his arm. "Do you want to be stabbed again?"

"She stabbed me the first time to incapacitate me so I couldn't fight back."

"Spell incapacitate," I hissed. And I highly doubt he would've fought me. I mean, come on.

"I-N-C-"

"Fang stabbed himself in the leg with a knife and I was trying to patch him up."

"Seriously, you two don't need an elaborate cover story just to get in each other's pants."

"Ella!" I looked at her in shock. "He really did!"

"I wasn't even getting in her pants! Max was just getting in _my _pants!"

"Nice job, Fang!" Gazzy exclaimed.

Gazzy. My sweet little innocent Gazzy. What in the world was happening right now?

"Max," Mom said, "We talked about this."

I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate-

"Don't worry, Dr. M," Fang said reassuringly, putting pressure on his wound that _no one had noticed yet_. Ugh. "I didn't let her pressure me into anything."

And…that's how I got roped into a ten minute conversation on how pressuring Fang into sex was wrong.

**A/N: That button. Push it. **

**Tell me an idea you've got. **

**Or just what was your favorite part/line. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm so surprised by all the feedback I've gotten for this…keep it up, guys!**

**Shout out to HarmonyBenderFreak. You **_**rock**_**, you know that? I'll definitely use your ideas sometime soon!**

**Prompt: That moment when the blind kid grabs you inappropriately. **

So, here's the thing. Iggy gets away with a lot of shit because he's blind, but I think this may just be the worst. Ever.

It started when Fang and I got home from a long day of flying and…other things. We were totally exhausted and equally starving, which led us to the kitchen of our newest safe house. We'd been promised safety along with a full stocked kitchen. Unfortunately, Iggy was already in said kitchen and was denying me access. Not us. Just me.

I'm not even that dangerous in kitchens, okay? Only when I, like, touch stuff!

But whatever.

"No," Iggy said threateningly, waving a wooden spoon in my general direction, almost whacking Fang in the side of the head. "No kitchen for Max."

"I just wanted a drink."

"Stay there, I'll get it. Don't come any closer."

"She can't," Gazzy snickered from his perch on the counter. He was trying to peel an orange, unsuccessfully. "It's hallowed ground."

"I'm not a vampire, idiot," I said, still breathing heavy. From the flying? Maybe. From the make-out session in the woods? More likely.

"You're boyfriend's name is _Fang_," Gazzy said with a grin. "I'm just pointing out the facts." I rolled my eyes. Fang stepped into the kitchen and grabbed the orange from Gazzy, practically peeling the skin off in one piece. Hmm. That boy was _very _skilled.

With oranges. Yeah.

Oranges.

Anyways! I was still parched since Iggy, even though he said he would, still hadn't gotten me a drink. He just stood guard at the doorway of the kitchen like a little… well, guard dog.

I figured Fang would get me something, like a _good _boyfriend - we can always hope - but he was never one to be chivalrous. He grabbed himself a bottle of water and snagged one of the sandwiches Iggy had made, then sat down at the table.

"Where are the girls?" I asked, hopefully distracting Iggy from standing between me and the fridge.

No dice.

"Nudge stole the computer from me while I was in the middle of my game," Gazzy whined. "She wanted to watch some dumb TV show and said it was her turn to use the computer. Angel is…who knows."

I nodded, returning my attention to the blind, blonde roadblock in the way of me and sweet relief.

"Ig, I won't touch any of your precious appliances. Scout's honor. Except the fridge, you know, but I doubt there's much damage I can do with the fridge."

"You would be surprised," Gazzy said quietly, which made me wonder if he was the reason our refrigeration door had mysteriously gone missing last month. Little bugger. I swear to God, he is the reason we can't have nice things. Ugh.

I sighed, shoving past Iggy into the kitchen. He reached out to stop me and instead violated my personal space in a _very _personal way.

Okay, just a little side note here. Ig is pretty dang good for being blind and all, but he's not perfect. He doesn't have our heights and statures perfect, but he has a really good estimate. An estimate which works really well for, like, glaring at us or slapping high fives.

Not so much for grabbing someone's shoulders. Sometimes he misses and grabs…other places.

This was one of those times.

I reacted as any self-respecting girl with kick-ass reflexes would. My face flushed immediately and before Iggy could even process what he had actually grabbed I had already reached out and forced him off me.

"What the hell, Iggy!" I snarled, shoving him backward, hard. Gazzy choked on his bite of orange, watching Ig fly through the room and land on his butt.

"What? Jesus, all I did was push you! It wasn't even that hard."

"You…you…" Gazzy tried, exploding with laughter as he tried to swallow. "You grabbed her boob!"

Fang snorted, following his last bite of sandwich.

"This is funny _why_?" I asked threateningly, glaring at him. Fang threw his hands up in surrender. He was facing away from me, but I could see his shoulders shaking in amusement.

"Nothing," Fang said, chuckling a bit. "Wish I was blind. Then I could cop a feel, too, with a valid excuse."

Gazzy erupted into more tickled laughter at that. Then, in Fang's voice, he said, "Oh, sorry, babe. Thought it was your shoulder. Again."

I grinded my teeth.

"Are you sure?" Iggy asked, laughing as he got to his feet.

"You full on groped her," Gazzy giggled, slapping his knees. Since when did Gazzy know what groping was? These boys were a horrible influence on him.

"I didn't even feel anything!" Iggy said with amusement.

"Trust me," said Fang. "They're there."

"Oh, trust _him_!" I cried in exasperation. "God, at least it didn't take Iggy four months to get to second base!"

"Ooh, Fang! Iggy got farther with Max than you did."

"Iggy is not _farther_," Fang defended, standing up.

"Don't worry, Fang," Iggy said. "She was full-on against, it if that helps."

"Iggy just doesn't have the magic touch, does he, Max?" Fang smirked, walking over to me and pulling me flush against him in front of God and everybody.

I shoved him off, which only caused him to laugh again. "Ig, she has to like it or it doesn't count."

"You guys are _shameless_!" I exclaimed. They all just laughed like dorks. But at least no one cracked anymore jokes. I stormed out of the kitchen and flopped down on the couch, groaning. Boys. Living with them is hell on earth, I tell ya. Especially when they teach the young ones their ways…

Just imaging what they'd be like when Gazzy was older…yikes.

I buried my face in a throw pillow, cursing them all in my head. Then, after I thought it was all over:

"Who says she likes it when _you _do it?" Gazzy questioned Fang challengingly.

"She does. Trust me."

I screeched into the pillow, wondering how hard it would be to suffocate myself.

And guess _freaking _what?

I hadn't even gotten a drink.

I…

I have no words.

**A/N: Poor Max. Review! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Now…I don't know if I'm going to do any other pairings because I don't think I write Eggy very well and I don't **_**really **_**support Niggy…**

**These will probably be mostly Fax-centered. **

**Prompt: That moment when your boyfriend doesn't know how to lock doors. **

I told Fang we shouldn't have gone.

But when does he listen to me, really?

It was some dumb CSM banquet that they were holding for some dumb rich guy we didn't even know. Mom had even told me that we didn't have to go. Which was awesome, because I also didn't _want _to go.

But freaking Brigid resurfaced from _hell _and begged us - mostly Fang, let's be honest with ourselves, she hated the rest of us - to show up.

So Fang told her we'd go.

Who would've guessed it? Fang's big-ass mouth got us in this particular scarring situation.

So, the banquet was being held in the CSM office building. And just like every other time the flock enters a building, the entire room quieted and everyone's eyes zoned in on us and widened to the size of dinner plates.

Then, amidst all the silence and awkward stares:

"You made it!" Brigid burst through the crowd. I looked her up and down. She was wearing a black cocktail dress. As I observed the other adults in the room, I realized that our jeans-and-a-clean-shirt attire was way under par. Oh, well. We showed up, and that better have been good enough.

Brigid swept her hair back over her shoulder and blew me a kiss. I had absolutely no idea how to respond to that one, so I just stared at her blankly. She blew another one at Nudge and I almost told her to duck, but I behaved.

Everyone else got their minimal greetings, and then she wrapped her arms around Fang like he was her savior or something. I'd like to say I'm over the whole Brigid/Fang dilemma, but I kind of felt like ripping her perfect hair out. Some things never change.

Thankfully, Fang was over the whole make-Max-extremely-homicidal-by-hugging-other-wome n phase, so he detangled himself quickly and grabbed my hand.

"There's food, right?" Iggy asked.

"Of course," Brigid said, smiling brightly at us. "Just through the foyer, first door on the left."

Brigid showed us to the food tables, and the kids attacked the fancy hors d'oeuvres and pre-dinner treats. As I picked through a tray of oddly colored something-or-others, I heard Brigid say, "Fang, come with me - I want to introduce you to some people."

Gag me with a spoon.

"Max! Try this!" The Gasman dangled something raw - that still had a _face _- in front of me. I pushed him away.

"Behave," I said sternly. "I mean it."

I should really learn to take my own advice.

I turned away from the others after that and scanned the crowd, my eyes finally meeting Fang's. He was standing near some men and women dressed way nicer than us. His hands were shoved in his pockets. The look he gave me made my spine tingle.

Ugh. Why did we have to spend our Friday night _here_? I could think of a million places I'd rather be. Judging by Fang's expression, he was reading my mind.

Brigid grabbed Fang's arm and said something to him in an annoyingly chipper manner. He nodded, still watching me. I raised an eyebrow.

Then he removed Brigid from his bicep and, after shooting me another heavy glance, walked out of the room. I quickly looked back at the others, tapped Iggy's hand, and then made my way out of the room to follow him. I didn't see him amongst the crowd in the foyer, so I shoved and elbowed my way through a sea of fancy clothes until I was facing a hallway with numerous doorways.

I was about to give up and go back to the others when someone grabbed me around the waist and shoved me into the nearest conference room.

"Don't make me blow my rape whistle!" I said, then turned around to see Fang shutting the door. "Oh, it's just you."

"Expecting someone else?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me. I grinned.

Fang stepped across the room and wrapped his arms around my waist, backing me up to the large, oval conference table that sat in the middle of the room. He lifted me up and set me on the edge.

"You kept giving me those hot, needy looks," Fang mumbled.

"I think you were looking in a mirror," I breathed back, pulling his head closer so our lips could meet. I tilted my head, kissing him deeply, and rested my arms on his shoulders. Our mouths moved heatedly as he pulled me closer.

"How much time do you think we have," I asked heavily against his cheek, "before someone comes looking for us?"

"Not sure," Fang mumbled, his hands moving up the back of my shirt. "Let's be fast."

"Won't be a problem for you," I muttered.

"Hilarious, really," Fang said sarcastically, giving me a dry look. I rolled my eyes.

"Kidding," I said, shoving him down into one of the chairs around the table. I slid down off the table and onto his lap. I leaned against his chest, kissing him again, full on the mouth. His fingers tangled in my hair. I started unbuttoning his shirt while he moved his lips to my neck.

"We wouldn't have to hurry if we would've stayed _home_," I said pointedly. Fang had no response for that, except to kiss me again.

"I wish you'd wear more revealing clothes," Fang mumbled, lifting my shirt.

"And you also wish I'd dye my hair red," I retorted, finishing his buttons and discarding of his shirt, too. "But I won't be doing that, either."

Fang groaned, letting his head fall back against the chair. "You'd be such a sexy redhead."

"Shut up before you back yourself into a corner," I said, smashing my mouth to his.

"People are going to start noticing we're not around," Fang said as I worked on his jeans. "Brigid said dinner was in ten."

"Screw Brigid," I said as Fang's arms pulled my tighter against him. Which, for the record, made my task of undoing his pants much more difficult.

"I had someone else in mind."

I refrained from hitting him.

I got his jeans unzipped and figured that was about as far as I could get without his help. He grabbed my face and pulled me down for a kiss again, his mouth moving under mine with rigorous enthusiasm. I groaned, pushing my fingers through his hair.

"Fang?"

The door burst open and behind it was none other than Brigid.

The next ten seconds were the most awkward seconds of my entire life.

It was _that bad_.

Fang and I didn't even move. We just turned and stared at her as she stared at us in surprise.

I was the first to snap out of it. "Way to lock the door, you _idiot_," I hissed.

"You jumped me," Fang said, glaring at me. "Did I really have time?"

I so did not jump him. Ugh.

That seemed to bring Brigid back to her senses. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry! Excuse me! _Oh, my gosh_…"

She hurried out, her face as red as her fiery hair.

"At least it wasn't Mom this time," I said, looking down at him.

"Don't remind me," Fang said. I sighed, getting up off his lap. Maybe if I were a shameless hormonal teenager, I would be kind of happy Brigid had seen us just so she knew to back the hell off.

But I wasn't. So… It was kind of _really _embarrassing.

Yeah.

Most awkward dinner? Coming right up.

I reached down and grabbed my shirt as Fang straightened his appearance, too. He walked toward the door and reached out for the knob. I grabbed his wrist.

"Let me show you something, honey," I said. Fang looked at me. I took his hand, grabbed the lock on the doorknob, and showed him how to twist it.

"That's how you lock a door," I said, looking at him with a smirk. "For future references."

**A/N: And there's one-shot number four. **

**Review…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This compilation of awkwardness has gotten amazing support! Thanks **_**so **_**much! And, if you like, don't be afraid to creep on me and read some of my other stories! There is a plethora of one-shots and stories on my profile, and I'd love for some feedback and/or ideas. **

**Prompt: That moment when it totally isn't what it looks like. **

"Max, will you _please _play cops and robbers with me?"

I shook the Gasman off my arm, giving him a look. "Why don't you ask someone else?"

Okay. When I asked that question, I didn't really want to know why he hadn't asked someone else. I was just offering a _suggestion_. But he decided to explain his entire freaking dilemma to me.

"Iggy said he had a headache because Nudge had been talking nonstop so he'd told her to shut the eff up and so she punched him in the face -"

"Wait, did his head hurt because of Nudge's incessant talking or because she decked him?" I wondered curiously, but Gazzy ignored me.

"- and Angel told me that she was busy having a tea party with Celeste and that other weird stuffed animal Ella gave her. I mean, what the heck is that thing, anyways?"

"An armadillo."

"Bless you. Anyways," he continued, "Ella is too busy doing homework and Fang _obviously _won't play with me."

I didn't see why that was obvious, but whatever.

"Gaz, look-"

"Max, _please_? I'll let you be the robber!"

I gave him a look.

"I mean, unless you want to be the cop. But I just figured…"

Oh, come on! Did I just _look _like a born delinquent? Was that the first impression I gave off?

Guh.

"I'm busy," I said.

"Doing what?" Gazzy asked dubiously.

Honestly, I was busy doing nothing. We'd been blessed with a few days of downtime and I'd been spending most of it either flying, sleeping, or eating. It was, I swear, the life of royalty. Except for the fact that later tonight, Mom, Jeb, Fang and I had to sit down and talk about our next move with the mission and all.

And, yes, Mom had made it clear that Jeb _needed _to be involved, so he was joining us for dinner. Shoot me.

"I heard that the number one cause of kids getting into drugs is because their parents won't play with them," Gazzy said.

"That's made up," I accused.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "I guess you'll find out if you don't play cops and robbers."

I sighed, swinging my feet off the side of my bed. "Fine! I get a head start."

"No you don't! You have super -"

But, I was already out the window. I snapped my wings out and took off, hoping I could just lose the Gasman and he'd get discouraged and give up. I flew with my super speed for a few minutes until I'd lost myself in the woods. Then, when I was satisfied that he wouldn't find me, I perched myself up on a branch, ready to chill for an hour and wait to head home.

I was beginning to doze off when I heard loud, urgent police sirens.

In my ear.

I screeched and jumped, losing my footing on the branch. Gazzy cackled as he watched me fall to the ground.

Then, as I was still processing what the hell had just happened, he grabbed both my wrists and slapped a pair of plastic handcuffs on me.

"GAZZY!"

He giggled. "Gotcha!"

"Handcuffs were not part of the deal!" I exclaimed, standing up. He'd locked my wrists together around front and not behind my back.

"What kind of cop doesn't have handcuffs?" Gazzy demanded.

"Um, the _fake kind_?" I gave him a look.

"How dare you call me a fake cop! You have the right to remain silent!"

"You have the right to remain _grounded_!"

Gazzy frowned. "Are we still playing?"

"Unlock my wrists."

"Sorry, Max," Gazzy said, kicking a pebble around on the ground. "Total ate the key."

I gritted my teeth and stared at him. He stared back at me, awaiting my wrath.

"_Run_."

Gazzy muttered under his breath and took off, his arms pumping frantically at his sides as he booked it back to the safe house.

I sighed, deciding not to waste my time chasing him. Instead, I'd focus on getting myself out of the damn handcuffs.

_This is why no one plays with you, Gazzy_, I thought sourly. I began my walk back to the house.

When I got back, I opened the door and walked into the house. No sign of Gazzy anywhere. In fact, there was no sign of anyone. I made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a knife.

Then, I made an executive decision to get someone to help me because if I tried to cut through the chain myself I'd probably end up hacking my hand off. And that's not a cool story to tell at parties. Unless your stumpy arm is sporting a hook where your hand used to be. Then it's pretty freaking cool.

I slowly walked up the stairs, carefully holding the knife downwards in case I tripped because that was totally likely. Then I pushed my way into Fang's room.

He was laying on his stomach, his arms cross under his head.

"Fang!"

He groaned, rolling over. Must've been taking a nap.

He sat up, looking at me. Then he grinned.

"I had a dream weirdly like this," he said. "Except you weren't holding a knife."

"Ha ha," I muttered. "Enjoy it. This is the first and last time you'll see me in handcuffs."

He shook his head. "More of a chains girl, eh?"

"Please just help me get them off."

"What were you doing, anyways?"

"Playing with Gaz," I muttered.

"He gets to cuff you and I don't?"

"Cops and robbers, you idiot," I hissed, sitting down on his bed next to him. He took the knife from me and surveyed the cuffs for a minute. Then he set the knife aside.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm going to enjoy this first," Fang murmured.

Then he pushed me back, so my head was on his pillow, and he lifted my arms above my head, where he hooked my wrists around the bedpost.

"Fang."

"Max," he grinned, and leaned down to kiss me slowly, torturously. I kissed him back, trying to unhook my arms at the same time. His hands wrapped around my waist.

"Max," he said teasingly. "Don't squirm."

"I could always just scream until someone came to help me," I threatened.

"You wouldn't," Fang said.

"Why not?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Because…whoever came in would see you without a shirt."

Fang pushed up the hem of my shirt, but since he couldn't get it all the way off he just left it hanging by my wrists. His lips immediately fell to my collarbone and eventually moved down to my stomach. Where, of course, I'm extremely ticklish. How do you expect an extremely ticklish girl to handle being kissed on the stomach?

Not quietly.

"S-sto-ahh!-p," I gasped, lifting my feet up to kick him. Instead, Fang grabbed my legs and wrapped them around his waist, moving up to kiss my neck again. "Fang!"

I distantly heard a door opening underneath my uncontrollable laughter and gasping.

"Max? Is your mother-"

Then there was a sound that was a mixture of a dying-animal noise and a father's eyes burning in their sockets.

Oh, my God…

Jeb stood in Fang's doorway, staring at us in shock.

"_Not _what it looks like," I insisted, hating the fact that I was, indeed, breathless.

"_Okay_," he said, obviously not believing me.

"No, really!"

"Max, _please_-"

"But we-"

"No, I-"

"Jeb!"

"Forget it! I didn't see _anything_." Then he nodded and gave us a thumbs up, as if he were doing us a kindness, and backed out, shutting the door quietly.

What the hell.

**A/N: Review/Idea?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This idea is from my **_**incredible **_**friend who went on a reviewing spree recently (which I totally appreciate!) - desperatelyobvious. If you don't know her, **_**get to know her**_**. She's awesome. AND go check out her awesome stories! **

**Prompt: That moment when…that's not my foot. **

We _never _get to go out.

I mean, we're sixteen. We should be spending our weekends and Friday nights going on dates and hanging out, just us. We should be living wild and crazy lives, throwing caution to the wind and becoming premeditated felons. We should've been sneaking in long after hours, trying not to get caught.

But Fang and I, instead, had to be parents to the five knuckle-heads in the house (counting Ella, who is more influenced by her boyfriend than I thought).

So, when Fang told me we were going out, I was really excited. We didn't get to be alone that often, and usually when we were, we never slowed down to enjoy it. It was always the _let's-be-really-fast-so-we-don't-get-interrupted _kind of alone time.

This time, I was going to make sure we slowed down and just enjoyed each other's company.

Or, I had been _planning _on doing just that until I came downstairs, ready to go out and be a wild teenager - but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Ella and Iggy waiting at the door, too.

"Um…"

"We're going on a double date! Max, won't this be _so _fun?"

I glared at Fang. He gave me an apologetic look.

"_Actually_, I thought it was just going to be Fang and I…"

"Well, go put some underwear on, 'cause we're comin', too!" Iggy exclaimed.

I threw my hands up in the air. _And…_this was when the jokes began.

"Fang!"

"Well, I _said _no!" he insisted. I gave him a look. "The first four times," he added in defeat. "Ig wouldn't leave me alone."

"You're going to regret letting them come along," I breathed. Fang sighed.

This was going to be a really long night.

"So, I'm guessing we're not going to the movies anymore?" I asked despondently as we exited the house.

Fang shook his head, grabbing my hand. "Ig wasn't happy with that."

"Then he shouldn't go," I said through gritted teeth.

I was presented with a new problem.

"Mom's driving us since I can't fly," Ella said as I whipped out my wings. I looked at her, slowly pulling them back in.

"You and Fang can even have the back, since I know how much you guys _love _backseats," Iggy snickered, climbing into the middle section with Ella. I huffed and climbed into the back, ignoring my mother in the rearview mirror.

"Fang, hands where I can see them," Mom said.

"Mother!"

"I was just kidding," she responded, pulling out of the driveway. Then I saw her shake her head at Fang in the mirror. I groaned.

When we reached the restaurant, om pulled up out front.

"Be safe and stick together!" she called, then proceeded to blow us kisses. Oh, my God. How was I supposed to throw caution to the wind under these conditions? How?

We went in, only to wait twenty freaking minutes for a table. Twenty minutes can feel like a very long time with Iggy and Ella.

"Let's ditch," I requested for the 4,512,792th time. Fang shot me a look. Apparently, that was 4,712,791 times too many.

"Shut up before I make you."

"Oh? How do you plan on _making me _shut up?" I raised an eyebrow. Fang opened his mouth to respond, but Iggy butted in before he got the chance.

"Now, don't say anything you wouldn't want Dr. M to hear," Iggy chastised.

I thumped him in the head.

"Max, just chill. We'll send them home early and spend some time alone. Promise."

I looked at him. "You better hope I'm still in the mood to spend 'some time alone' after this."

Fang pulled me tighter to his side. "You will be."

"Don't sound so sure," I mumbled.

"I'm sure," he said.

Finally, a waitress named I-really-don't-remember-exactly-but-I-think-someth ing-with-a-T came over and led us to our table. I was about to sit next to Fang when Iggy swooped in and took my chair. "Now, can't have you and lover boy doing dirty deeds under the table."

I looked at him.

"Ig, did you come along _just _to cock-block me?" Fang asked irritably.

Iggy shrugged as I reluctantly took the seat diagonal from Fang. "That, and the free food."

Free food?

"What free food?" Fang asked.

"As if I have cash!" Iggy whooped in amusement. "Nah, you're covering us, right, man?"

"Remember when I said you'd regret this?" I asked Fang. "This is when that regret starts to kick in."

He nodded in understanding. He'd better had planned something really fucking awesome for later. Because this sucked.

It only got worse. Iggy "accidentally" tripped the waiter, Fang was hit on by an old lady with no teeth, and Ella kept complaining about having something in her eye. Finally, she insisted I look, and I did, but I didn't see anything.

"No eyelash? Nothing?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Nope."

"I'm going to go wash it out in the bathroom," Ella said reluctantly and stood up. I nodded and continued eating my pasta. Fang resumed eating, too.

But Iggy froze, looking straight ahead.

"If Ella just left… who's foot in playing with mine?"

A long moment of silence.

Then: "Oh, my God, Fang! Are you playing footsie with _Iggy_?"

Fang looked at me, then at Ig, then back at me again. "You mean…that's not your foot?"

I snorted, shaking my head no. Fang paled and looked under the table. When he resurfaced, he looked disgusted.

"Iggy! I knew I shouldn't have let you sit over there! You and Fang, doing dirty deeds under the table!" I cracked up, gasping for air. They both stared at me, not amused.

"How could you not tell?" I spluttered.

Fang just glared at me.

"Seriously, Fang, my feet are like, ten times smaller than Ig's."

"Hey!"

"Well, they are!"

Iggy was bright red by the time I was finished teasing them. I propped my elbow up on the table and leaned on my hand. "Oh, you two are so gay."

"It was a misunderstanding!" Iggy shouted, earning dirty looks from other couples.

I just laughed and looked around. I saw Ella weaving back toward the table and said, "Oh, she's going to get a kick out of this…"

"Max, no, don't tell her!" Iggy pleaded. "I want to look cool!"

I sighed, putting my hand on Iggy's. "Okay, buddy. Don't worry."

And when Ella's butt hit the seat, I said:

"Our boyfriends are gay."

**A/N: Super short and to the point. Sorry, hope it made you laugh anyways. More to come when I have more time. Review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I have NO free time.**

**I've been getting home at, like, ten PM for weeks now. Ugh. I haven't even had time to think about writing ANYTHING. I've literally gotten home, eaten a super, super late dinner, showered and went to bed. I am exhausted. **

**The good news is, the ideas are always flowing, and come summer, there should be quite a few new stories from me… (Including the third installation of the trilogy…) My school year officially ends on the 24****th**** of May, but my voluntary summer school (I'm taking extra classes for more credits) starts in the beginning of June. So…The wait may be a bit longer than expected. **

**Anyways, I love talking to you all, so PM me with ideas or criticism or whatevs. **

**Anyone who's read **_**Risks **_**and **_**Choices**_**: I've been thinking about writing a companion one-shot for **_**Risks **_**in Maya's POV, basically her plan to switch it up with Max and whatnot toward the end…get into her head a bit. So…tell me if I should pursue that idea or not!**

**Annnnnd here's the next one.**

**Prompt: That moment when Gazzy doesn't know his acronyms. **

"GAZZY! What did I tell you about using my stuff to blow things up?"

The Gasman cowered in front of Max, who looked like she was about to explode and send bad vibes and angry-Max goo all over the place. Yuck.

"But Iggy said-"

"You don't listen to Iggy! You listen to me!"

Gazzy's eyes widened, and he stared up at her in fear. She was reacting way worse this time than she had last week. All he'd taken was a pair of shoes - they were worn and gross, anyways!

"You are done making bombs _forever_. Do you hear me? Find a normal hobby! Find a hobby that doesn't have to do with bombs or farts or something and be a normal kid!"

With that, she yanked her charred sneakers out of his hands and stormed back inside. Gazzy turned around, his eyes watering. He was no baby, but he hated it when Max got all mad at him about making bombs. It was his favorite thing to do! And now she wanted him to quit?

"She's so dumb," Gazzy mumbled. Iggy put his hand on Gazzy's shoulder.

"It's not your fault, little man," Iggy said. "She's probably just PMSing or something."

"P-M-S-ing?" Gazzy asked, looking up at Iggy curiously. Iggy's face, like his own, was covered in soot and dirt. Evidence of their latest kick-ass explosion. It had left a five foot hole in the ground in Dr. M's backyard!

"Once every month, just like clockwork, girls go on these insane, angry rampages, taking out everything in their paths! No one is safe, Gaz, not you or me. I feel most sorry for Fang. Max is the worst, obviously, because even on good days, she's biting our heads off. But when she's PMSing, prepare to meet Jesus."

Gazzy was speechless at this new information. "Why does that happen?"

Iggy started to look a bit uncomfortable. Gazzy figured it must be so disturbing that Iggy didn't want to share.

"Because…Inside every woman is an…evil spirit, and every month that spirit takes over for one week."

"Oh, my God," Gazzy whispered in fear.

"I know, buddy," Iggy said. "It's all very scary stuff."

"How do we protect ourselves?"

Iggy grinned down at him.

• • •

"Max?" Gazzy asked nervously, tapping on her door. He glanced up at Iggy. "Are you sure this will work?"

Iggy nodded convincingly. "I promise. If you give it chocolate, the spirit will spare your soul."

"What, Gaz?" Max demanded.

Gazzy took that as an invitation. He slowly opened the door. Max was laying on the bed on her stomach. Fang was next to her, his head propped up in one hand as the other rubbed Max's back.

"I got you some stuff!" Gazzy said excitedly, and spilled a bag full of a variety of chocolate bars on Max's bed. Fang stifled a chuckle. Max groaned, sitting up, and picked up a Hershey's bar to inspect it.

"That's sweet, Gazzy," Max said, pulling him into a hug. "Thanks."

Gazzy let her hug him for a second, then stepped back. "So, uh, does that mean you'll spare my soul?"

"What?"

"Okay! We'll just be going," Iggy said, dragging Gazzy out of Max's bedroom and shutting the door. "Great job, man."

Gazzy smiled, happy that he had saved himself. Who wanted their soul taken away by an evil spirit? Not him!

Gazzy and Iggy then went downstairs to watch TV. Gazzy's favorite show ever was on - _The Walking Dead_. He loved explaining all the gory details to Iggy, and he was really good at it, too.

When the show went to commercial, Fang came downstairs and passed them to go into the kitchen.

Iggy heard the refrigerator door open and then said, "Hey, Fang, your commercial's on."

Fang walked into the living room and looked at the TV to see what it was about. Then he made a face, kicking Iggy's shin as he walked by. "Hilarious."

"I don't get it," Gazzy said. The commercial was talking about some disease called _gonorrhea_. "What's gone-or-he-a?"

"_Gonorrhea_," Iggy corrected, stifling a laughed. Fang rolled his eyes, coming back out of the kitchen with two cans of soda.

"See what you did?" Fang accused. "Now he thinks I've got it. Fix it."

"It's called an STD, Gazzy," Iggy explained as Fang disappeared upstairs again.

Gazzy looked very interested at this new information. He was learning a lot today! "How do you get one of those?"

Iggy looked a bit disturbed at Gazzy's intense interest in the subject, but said, "Uh…That's what happens when the evil spirit inside a woman steals the man's soul."

Gazzy sunk back into the couch. "Poor Fang. What does it do?"

Iggy ran a hand down his face to cover his laughter. "It hurts him really bad."

Gazzy frowned. Fang needed to stay away from Max when she was PMSing if it was giving him an STD!

Then again, this explained a lot. Maybe that was why Fang was always frowning - he was always in pain! Man, everything was so much clearer now.

"What does STD stand for?"

Iggy thought for a minute. "Spiritually Transmitted Disease," he said.

"That sounds really bad." Gazzy had been _this close _to getting one! Good thing he'd gotten Max's evil spirit chocolate so she wouldn't steal his soul! Iggy was always looking out for him.

"It is, Gazzy. It is."

• • •

That night, at the dinner table, Gazzy was helping everyone set the table. He was carrying a bowl of rolls. As he set them on the table, he heard Max groaning as she sat down. She rested her head in her hands. Fang sat down next to her, really close.

"What's wrong, Max?" Dr. Martinez asked as everyone sat down and started filling their plates. Gazzy decided to answer for her.

"Max has an STD, guys," he said sensitively. Max's head shot up and everyone paled. Everyone slowly looked from Gazzy to Max. Then their gazes slid to Iggy, who was laughing silently in his seat, staring sightlessly at his plate.

Gazzy wondered why everyone was laughing. Then he realized his mistake. "Oh, wait, no. _Fang _has the STD. Max was possessed by an evil spirit and is _PMSing_."

He didn't understand why everyone was laughing. This was very serious stuff.

"Iggy! Why did you tell him I had an STD?" Fang demanded, not amused. He was probably frowning, Gazzy inferred, because he was in so much pain.

"It's okay, Fang. Max's evil spirit took your soul," the Gasman explained calmly. "But if you stay away from Max when she's PMSing you won't get anymore STDs."

"Oh, my God," Nudge muttered, gasping for breath.

Fang really looked pained then. It must've be getting worse. "Uh, thanks Gazzy."

Gazzy looked at him sympathetically. "If you stop touching Max, maybe it'll go away."

Even Dr. Martinez couldn't hold in her laughter any longer.

Fang swallowed.

"Oh, and if you give Max chocolate, her PMSing spirit won't take your soul!" Gazzy advised. Fang looked over at Max, who was biting her cheek to keep from laughing.

"What's PMSing?" Angel asked finally. Everyone stopped laughing.

"Well, Angel -" Gazzy began. He was going to warn his sister about evil spirits and spiritually transmitted diseases before she could get sucked into that mess! He had to look out for her, after all.

"NO!" Everyone shouted at the exact same time.

**A/N: I honestly don't know where this idea came from. **

**Tell me if you liked it or hated it, and give me why! Favorite line? Criticism? **

**Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well. Here I am. **

**As for **_**Consequences**_**: Um…I've been diagnosed with a severe case of writer's block. But I'm working through it! Expect it DEFINITELY by June. Dealio?**

**Harmony Bender Freak: Girl, your ideas were awesome! But, I have my own ideas too. Patience, chica, patience!**

**THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS.**

**Prompt: When you don't realize you have an audience. **

It was a perfectly-planned getaway.

Fang had come up with the idea, originally. An escape, of sorts.

We were in need of some serious one-on-one time.

So, Fang came up with a cover story. A "suspicious lead" that we were "tracking". Fang and I were going on a little mini mission to "check it out". Or so we told the others.

Truthfully, we were just going on a little vacation. It's not like we felt the need to lie to the others. It actually made me feel really bad. As if Fang and I weren't happy unless we were alone, you know?

But that wasn't it. The fact was, it was just really _hard _to get alone time in Casa de Flocka.

So, lie it was.

Of course, the lie suddenly turned into a whole freakin' chain of lies when the flock was truly unsettled by the news of a possible threat.

"Should we move?"

"Should we go with you? For back up?"

"Do you think they know where we live?"

"Are we gonna die?"

I looked at Fang helplessly. He rolled his eyes.

"No, Gaz - shut up. Okay?"

Gazzy looked at Fang as if he'd just opted to eat live kittens or something as equally frowned upon.

"I will not shut up! Dying is a serious situation!"

"You're not going to die. Max and I are going to handle it."

Feeling guilty, I said optimistically, "It might be nothing, guys."

"But it might be something," Fang added quickly. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "So, we'll be back tomorrow."

"What if something goes wrong?"

"What if you guys get taken?

"What if _you _die?"

"Gazzy, cut it out with the dying thing, would ya?" I said, pushing my hair away from my face. "We'll be fine."

"If you die, can I have your room?"

I gave him a look, seeing his blue eyes glinting with mischief. "No."

"Just, try not to blow up the house while we're gone."

"No promises," Iggy muttered from the couch.

"Of course not," I said, grabbing Fang's bicep and dragging him to the door. "Don't call us!"

"Right," Iggy scoffed. " 'Cause a ringing phone will draw the attention of any suspects."

I didn't know if he was onto us or not. "Uh, right. Fang, did you get your bag?"

Fang walked into the kitchen and grabbed his backpack, zipping it securely before flinging it onto his back.

"See ya, guys!"

Fang and I took off in the front yard.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

Fang looked sideways at me as we flew through the late afternoon air. "We deserve a night to ourselves. It's not like we're abandoning them."

I sighed. "I'm not saying we should go back," I said, and Fang looked relieved. "I'm just saying…Did we have to lie about it?"

It had seemed important then, but now I was wondering if we could've just told them we wanted a night alone. I mean, they'd understand, right?

"I think they would've understood," I said finally.

"Really?" Fang asked.

I groaned. "No. They would've been merciless. But still-"

"Max, I know your whole…_mother hen _thing has probably kicked in by now and you're feeling really bad, but-"

"But you're a guy and you have needs, whatever!" I started going down since we'd reached the cave already. I landed less than gracefully on the edge of the cliff. Fang landed behind me.

I threw down my pack and started pulling out the leftovers Fang and I had nicked from the fridge.

"Cold…mmm…what is this? Pasta con broccoli?" Fang inquired as he, too, threw down his backpack on the floor.

There was a muffled sound coming from it, but I brushed it off.

I grinned at him. "Better'n rat. Or…squirrel."

Fang made a disgusted noise. "Squirrel."

I snorted. "Your idea," I mumbled. I pulled out a plastic baggie filled with dinner rolls.

"I'm not even hungry," Fang said. A sentence I don't think he's ever said before.

I, on the other hand, was starving. I started shoveling food into my mouth. "Ugh. The sun isn't even down yet," I said, choking down a huge scoop of pasta, sans broccoli. Yes. I pick around the greens. Sue me. "Can't we ever have a normal date? Ya know, without all the hot kissing and touching and stuff."

"We should just go home."

I threw a roll at him, which he caught, and promptly took a bite out of. He chewed it slowly.

I did _not _chew slowly. Never know which bite's gonna be your last, am I right?

After a while, I realized Fang was watching me with a peculiar look on his face.

"What?" I spoke through a mouthful of pasta.

"Why am I with a slob like you?"

"Aw, Fang," I said, swallowing thickly and making a show of wiping my mouth on my sleeve. "You're so sweet."

I got up and crawled over to where he sat, propped up against the cave wall.

"Because you think I'm…_sexy_," I said, moving to kneel over him.

"Oh, yeah?" He leaned his head back against the chilly cave wall and looked up at me, mischief in his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Why?"

I grinned at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Let me remind you."

I smashed my lips against his, pushing my hands up into his hair. I let my wings out and his fingers slowly ran through my feathers.

You know, I feel really sorry for those of you without feathery friends. You've never experienced the feeling of your boyfriend stroking your wings. It's pretty great.

I pulled my mouth away from his. He pressed against my wing and I got the message, pulling them in tight against my back. Then he rolled me onto my back, hovering over me.

"Hmm, I think I'm starting to remember," Fang said, brushing his lips down my neck. I shivered.

"Cold?" he murmured.

"Yeah," I whispered, pulling him closer.

"I'll fix it," Fang promised, kissing me again.

And fix it he did.

His mouth moved down my neck, leaving a trail of slow kisses. I let my head fall back against the ground, turning to stare out the mouth of the cave at the setting sun. He started sucking on the sweet spot on my neck. I whimpered softly.

"You can moan, Max," he teased. "We're alone, after all."

I huffed. "As if. You wish you could make me moan."

Fang chuckled, pushing me against the rocky cave floor roughly. He pressed his lips to my ear. "Challenge accepted."

He started lifting my shirt, kissing me so slowly and so passionately…

"Mmmm," I moaned - yes _moaned_ - pulling him closer.

"ENOUGH, HOOLIGANS!"

I kicked Fang so hard he flew across the cave and hit the opposite wall. I sat up.

"What the-"

Standing next to Fang's backpack was Total, a disgusted look on his little fury face.

"So, this is what tracking a 'suspicious lead' looks like!" he cried indignantly. "I'd hate to see what 'taking down the enemy' was!"

Fang snickered, rubbing his head where it had collided with the wall. This was _not _funny.

I _moaned _in front of _Total_…while Fang was…biting on me like an apple. Oh, perfect.

"I cannot believe you two _lied _to us so you could get hot and heavy in some cave!" Total stuck his nose in the air. "Have some control over yourselves!"

I looked pointedly at Fang, who glared at me. Then he glared at the dog.

"Total, go home!"

"I will _not_!" He promptly sat on his little butt, his tail thumping expectantly. Oh, my God. Is this happening? What the heck is _happening_?

"Well, then what are you going to do?" Fang demanded, pissed off. "Chaperone?"

"Yes," Total said. "It is my duty, as I am the only one not high on teenage hormones right now."

I rolled my eyes. Fang stood up.

"Well, if you want to watch-" he said.

"Fang!" I cried, pressing myself further against the cave wall, staring at him in shock. No way in hell was the freaking dog gonna _watch_!

"God, no! If I have to bite some ankles-"

I could not believe this was happening right now.

Total turned his head to look at me, then Fang.

"Now. Max, Fang, let's talk about _waiting_. Fang, what are you intentions with Max? No means _no_, son."

I looked at Fang for a brief moment, realizing I've had too much embarrassment for one night.

Sex talk from a dog?

"I'm out."

**A/N: You guys know what to do. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: The fact that my finals for all seven of my classes are this Thursday and Friday hasn't really hit me yet. I'm sure I'll start cramming like crazy on Wednesday. **

**GO READ **_**Under the Never Sky**_** by Veronica Rossi. Now. Seriously. Then, go read the sequel. They are so amazing. Ugh! Love them. **

**This idea popped into my brain and I just **_**had **_**to use it. **

**Prompt: That moment when you + boyfriend + bathroom + no lights = BAD COMBINATION.**

Showers are really nice.

For the majority of my life, showers were not very easy to come across. And, when they did come along, they were not hot. Not even luke warm. Okay? I was lucky to get, like, iceberg temperatures.

Yeah.

But now that we were living in this nifty safe house in the mountains, I could take showers. As long as I wanted, as hot as I wanted.

And no one could tell me what to do because I was a leader and that was _that_.

Showers are fantastic. Relaxing. Incredible. The actual process of cleaning myself and washing my hair? Totally pointless. Please someone tell me why we must shampoo _and _condition. Someone. Please.

You see? I have no problems whatsoever handling my messed up, crazy life. No problems. But when it comes to simple things like washing my hair, I just need to know _why_.

Anyways. I was taking one of my fantastic-relaxing-incredible showers when the door opened. I had become accustomed to taking hour long showers, and the flock had become accustomed to invading my personal space since I refused to vacate the premises.

So, as I was rinsing my hair, I casually called out, "_Who _is gracing me with their presence this time?"

No response. That could only mean one thing, you know.

"Why, Fang. I should've guessed," I tsked. "Does it make you nervous knowing we're separated only by a curtain?"

Nothing.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I squirted soap into my hand and began making suds.

"Brushing my teeth," Fang answered calmly. I heard the sink turn on quickly and then off. Then he slyly added, "You?"

"Oh, well," I said just as coolly. "Showering. You know. Washing my legs…my stomach…my-"

Fang cleared his throat, spitting into the sink. I heard his toothbrush clank as it fell into the cup on the counter. I smirked, stepping under the water to rinse off.

"You need to hurry. I want a shower, too," Fang said. His low voice was smooth and deep. I grinned.

"Nope. I'm not done yet."

Fang sighed. He knew that I _had _to have washed every part of my body three times. That was the only explanation as to why I'd been in the shower for almost an hour. "Then I'll just have to come in with you," he said. I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Oh, yeah," I laughed. Then I didn't hear him leave. Rustling of clothing.

"Fang?"

Nothing.

"That was a joke, right, Fang?"

I heard something hit the floor. Sounded like a _belt_. Hell nah.

"Fang, you better not-"

And then the lights went out.

I squeaked, suddenly feeling _really _vulnerable. I pressed my back against the shower wall. Of course, that moment was when the hot water decided that enough was enough, and it turned icy cold.

"Holy-" I sprang out from under the spray, reaching out of the curtain.

"Fang?" I called nervously.

"I didn't do it. Ig and Gazzy must've cut off the power," Fang mumbled. He still sounded quite far away, thank God.

"Don't leave," I said, still fumbling in the dark. "Where is my _towel_, damn it?"

"I don't know," he said, moving closer.

"No!" I said. "Stay over there. I'm getting out. You'll close your eyes if you know what's good for you."

Fang chuckled. Finally, my hand grasped my soft, warm towel. The water was still running, freezing cold and splashing against my skin. I leaned out the curtain to grab my towel and-

Lost my balance.

Lost my fucking balance. Since when can I not balance? Seriously? _Since when_? I have two extra limbs that help me maintain balance in the toughest of scenarios, but I can't even get out of the shower without tripping? What kind of invincible bird-kid am I if I am defeated by _showers_?

It was totally a slow-motion Noooooooooo moment.

I crashed the ground, wet and naked, and frantically pulled the towel over my body.

I groaned.

The lights came back on.

Fang snorted from above me. I was laying on my chest on the ground, my towel throw haphazardly over my butt. The only part of my torso Fang could see was my bare back and half-folded in wings- _Thank you, Jesus _- but I was still humiliated more than I thought possible. Plus, my elbow stung really bad. So, basically an all-around bad situation.

It honestly could not have gotten worse. And I could not have gotten more red in the face.

Until the door burst open and the Gasman ran in. He was gasping for breath. "It's all good," he panted, brushing a hand across his forehead to wipe sweat from his brow. "We just…"

He trailed off, his eyes widening as he glanced from me to Fang. Me to Fang. Me to Fang. Hell, kid, get the picture and get out, okay? Honestly, how hard was it for the Gasman to grasp? This was obviously a normal situation!

Fang was practically dying of held back laughter by this time. He muttered through his low chuckling something that sounded like, "I really wish you hadn't found your towel."

"Get. Out."

Gazzy scampered out of the room. I turned my head and looked up at Fang through my wet hair.

"Now."

And that's why smart people lock the doors when they shower.

Obviously, I'm not smart.

Whatever.

Shut up.

**A/N: Ohh, I crack myself up. Review and tell me what you liked/disliked about this chapter! **

**I'll see you guys soon. Summer is just around the corner…**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here's the thing. **_**Consequences **_**is KICKING MY BUTT right now. I'm trying to make it perfect AND balance my life at the same time. Harder than you think. But it'll be out within the next month or so. SO, yeah. Just a nice update for y'all. **

**If you are looking for something to read on here, go check out my series. It starts with **_**Risks**_**, then goes to **_**Choices**_**. **_**Consequences **_**will be the next and last book in that series. OR if you want oneshots, I have a freaking ton of those. I also have a few "hidden chapters" from the books, which are basically continuations of parts of the novels. **

**If you have any IDEAS, I am open to suggestions. Not just for this story! **

**Annnnnnnd if you want real books? I just finished reading an AMAZING trilogy by Simone Elkles called **_**Perfect Chemistry**_**. OMG. Amazing. **

**Or **_**Under the Never Sky **_**by Veronica Rossi. There are two of those so far. Gonna be a third in January. **

**Anyways. Thank you guys soooooooooo much for reading and reviewing. It makes my day.**

**WARNING: In this one, Iggy's a free spirit. Drop your Niggy feelings or your Eggy feelings or even some of you weirdos who root for Figgy - I DON'T KNOW YOUR LIFE.**

**Prompt: That moment when you pull one over on the blind kid. **

"I have this…talent."

The girls around Iggy squealed excitedly, leaning toward him in earnest. One girl put her hand on Iggy's chest, as if that'd somehow get him to tell her faster. I rolled my eyes.

"It's really nothing," Iggy said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck and feigning modesty. He was rolling in the attention he was getting. It was almost enough to make me sick. The girls ate it up.

"Tell us, Jeff!"

"Yeah, tell us!"

"What is it?"

"Okay, okay," Iggy said, sighing. "I can _feel _colors."

"He better tread lightly," I hissed to Fang. Fang's arms tightened around my waist as we watched Iggy across the sand. "If he blows our cover, I'll kick is pale white ass."

"You'll have to beat Nudge to it," Fang murmured in my ear. "She'll be pissed if we have to move again."

Fang was right. Judging by the fact that Nudge - ahem, Monique - had gotten a brand new boyfriend once we'd moved here, I bet she'd beat Iggy to a pulp if he was the reason we had to relocate.

So, here was the situation. After a slight problematic run-in with the bad guys again, we'd packed our things and moved to California. Much to Iggy's excitement. Maybe he couldn't see, but, and I quote: "I can _feel_."

Like, I don't even want to know what that was supposed to mean.

When we'd told everyone that we were moving to California, they had been pretty excited about it. Nudge had decided that in order to celebrate the move, we were going to a beach party. Which, if you did not know, meant sitting on the beach with the _entire_ population of California doing absolutely nothing.

Nudge was sneaky. She didn't ask me. She asked Fang, and he said yes, then asked me and I said no, but he said he'd already said yes…

Anyways. We were here.

Nudge and her "boyfriend" - a.k.a. boy she'd just met two hours ago and 'totally loved' - were walking down the beach. Angel and Gazzy were swimming, even though it was almost six and the water was bound to be freezing.

"No. Way."

"Way," Iggy said, nodding solemnly. "Try me."

And Iggy was trying to pick up chicks.

So the girls surrounding Iggy began pressing his hand to their clothes or their purses or other things around them and he sat still, pretending to think, even groping for a second, then guessed the right color. What a perv.

"He's gonna get himself in trouble," Fang said quietly as one girl wondered aloud if he could tell the color of her bellybutton ring. Like, ew. No one wants to touch that.

Fang and I were sitting in the sand a ways down the beach around a fire with a few other people we didn't know. I wondered how much longer I had to suffer through this before we could leave. Sure, laying around lazily with my head on Fang's chest was great and all, but we could do this at home.

"Me next!" A girl with curly brown hair tugged Iggy's hand and put it on her shirt, extremely close to her chest. Iggy said, "Hmmm…tough one…feels purple."

Fang stood up and said, "Watch this."

He pointed to a girl with short blonde hair who was wearing a sparkly top and black jeans. She put Iggy's hands on her ass, giggling the whole time. The other girls gasped, giggling with her. _Did she just, like, do that? Omigod!_

Gag.

It was like a train wreck. It was horrible, but I couldn't help but watch. God, Iggy…

Iggy thought about _that _color for a looooong time.

Fang walked over to Iggy and quietly stood behind him. Ig said, "Jeans…but not blue…is it…black?"

The girl squealed, clapping her hands. Iggy didn't move his hand from her butt. Even gave her a little squeeze. I rolled my eyes. God, this kid was shameless. I wondered what Fang was going to do. He wiggled his eyebrows at me, which made him look ridiculous. I laughed out loud. He held up a finger, telling me to shush.

"Now, who is this?" Iggy asked with amusement, squeezing the girls butt again. "Sarah? Lauren?"

"Guess again," Fang said in Iggy's ear.

Iggy jumped six feet in the air, squealing like the blonde girl whose ass he'd just been groping.

"Holy shit, Fang!" Iggy shouted, shoving the girl in front of him away. She fell forward into the sand. I busted out laughing and Fang joined me a second later. The girl stumbled to her feet, wiping sand off her clothes.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I laughed. Iggy turned bright red. Fang clapped his hand down on Iggy's shoulder, saying something about how Ig totally had it coming. I laid back in the sand, closing my eyes. The look on Iggy's face…

Then: "Hold up. _Fang_?"

There went our cover.

Oh well.

Needless to say, Iggy never used the "feel colors" pick-up again.

**A/N: Guess what would make me REALLY happy? Besides pizza. Scratch that. Besides ALL junk food.**

**Review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Don't even ask how I came up with this one. You don't want to know. **

**Prompt: That awkward moment when the old man does **_**not **_**approve.**

MAX

"Flock's already up there," Fang said as he and I walked into the lobby of our latest hotel. The bellhop guy - why do they call 'em bellhops, anyways? That's fucking weird - greeted us with a big happy grin. I sneered at him. Fang pulled me toward the elevators, giving me a look, like, _Why do you have to rain on everyone's parade?_

"What floor are we on?" I asked, pushing the up arrow by the elevator.

Fang ducked into the elevator behind me and said into my ear, "Sixteen."

I punched the button then said, "So, we've got, like, eight seconds?"

"Roughly," Fang agreed.

And as soon as the doors were closed, he was kissing me. His lips landed hard on mine, his tongue pushing between my lips to taste my mouth. I groaned, tilting my head up and to the left. Fang arms wrapped hard around my waist, pulling my body flush against him with one pull. I shivered against him, kissing him deeply.

We'd gone out to get Nudge a new pair of pants because Iggy spilled marinara sauce on hers while they were eating mozzarella sticks in the hotel room. And, obviously, Nudge "totally could not go out in public with a stain on her pants", even though we hadn't had any real interaction with other human beings in weeks. Whatever. She made us go buy her jeans at a nearby department store.

For the past few days, we'd all been sleeping in the same room. Which meant no private time. Like, at all. Like, I had to get up at six to take a shower without anyone busting in. Freaking six in the morning, mind you. Who the hell gets up at six in the morning? Huh?

Anyways. It sucked because Fang and I liked private time and hadn't gotten it in a long time. Like, a week. Freaking forever, when you've got a boyfriend like Fang. Not to mention I was stuck bunking with Nudge and Fang with Iggy.

So we'd resorted to eight seconds of hot private time in a hotel elevator.

"Ow, ow, ow," I gasped as Fang's mouth moved down my neck, clenching my hands around his biceps. "Something hard pressing into lower back."

Fang pulled back and smirked at me. I'd set myself up for that one.

"Lower _back_, pervert," I said as Fang pulled off my shirt. I would've stopped him, but at this point I really wasn't paying much attention. I also paid no attention to where he threw it. "Not _front_."

Fang rolled his eyes and lifted me up, sitting me on the flat bar against the wall of the elevator. I grabbed his hair and dragged his lips back up to mine, smiling against his mouth. His lips fell from mine again and I sighed as they started kissing my collar bone sensually.

I heard the doors whoosh open to my right.

AWESOME.

Fang and I both spun our heads to look towards the doors. They'd opened two seconds too early…

An old man with a cane stood in the doorway, staring at us like…well, like he'd just caught two bird kids undressing each other in public. We all know how much old people like PDA… Especially when they see it in totally inappropriate places, like hotel elevators.

Now, the dude couldn't see my wings thanks to the white tank top I was sporting, but he apparently didn't see my t-shirt on the ground either, because when he recovered from his shock, he limped into the elevator and put his foot down on my shirt.

Cool.

It was so uncomfortable. Have you ever stood in an elevator with a person you didn't know, and the elevator doors took four million hours to shut? That's what happened to me and Fang. Fang slowly set me down and I stood. My cheeks were burning.

The old man had pushed his button when he stepped in. He was going up to level twenty. I, getting restless, started smacking the door close button since the doors were still wide open.

"Fucking elevator," I hissed, then realized Pop probably frowned upon usage of the f-word, too. Ugh.

Finally, the doors shut. I glanced at Fang, who was smirking at me. He looked amused. He also looked peeved since we'd been interrupted. And we'd still had three floors to go.

I was just embarrassed beyond belief. To make matters worse, Gramps was standing on my shirt. And we had to get off before him.

"Excuse me," I said finally, trying to be gentle, "You're, uh, standing on my shirt."

I could hear Fang chuckling behind me and I shot him the bird behind my back. What a butthead.

The old man looked at me, like, how dare I have the nerve to speak to him. Then he looked down at his foot, which was covering my shirt.

He sneered at me over his bifocals. Then, he picked up his cane off the ground - standing perfectly fine on his legs, I might add - hooked the curved end of his cane into one of the sleeves of my shirt and kept the rest of it under his boot. Then he pulled, hard. My shirt ripped down the middle.

"Have fun explaining to your parents what happened to your shirt," he said with a chuckle.

I gaped at him. Fang snickered and pulled me out of the elevator.

"Hey, kid," he called. Fang and I turned around. The old man pointed to Fang, then motioned that his zipper was down. Fang glanced down quickly. His zipper was up, though. The doors closed before anyone could say or do anything else.

I swear we could still hear the old man's laughter long after the doors closed.

WHAT KIND OF OLD MAN DOES THAT.

Sigh.

**A/N: Short, but long enough. Review, pleaaaaaaaaaase. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I love The Office. It's more real than any reality TV show I've ever seen. Well, except Guy Code. Guy Code is good, too, though.**

"**You know, if we hung Holly from the ceiling, we would have to kiss under her."**

**Oh, goodness. **

**Hey, guys. Long time no update! **

**Prompt: That moment when that is the last time you do laundry. **

I've officially voted laundry off the island.

Like, I can handle other domestic household chores, like cleaning or doing the dishes. Okay, so maybe I can't cook, but the other things I can get done. And it's not like I have a problem with getting laundry done, but seriously it sucks. Especially when I have to do it since the others are either too lazy or too incompetent.

This was the first time in months that I actually had to do laundry, though, since it was the first time in months that we had both a washing machine and a dryer at our disposal. Which was cool, because I hadn't had to do laundry for the past eight or so weeks.

But it was so not cool because that meant the kids' clothes were contaminated with eight weeks or so of fucking who knows.

If you look up laundry in the dictionary, it will show me stabbing my eyes out with a fork. Which, now that I think about it, absolutely does not define laundry in itself, just the effect laundry has on me as a human being.

I stared sadly at the six baskets at my feet. I'd forced everyone in the flock to gather all of their disgusting clothes - except for the outfits on their backs, it ain't like we're running some kind of nudist colony up in here (yuck) - and put them in separate baskets. I decided finally to start with Fang's, since I knew I wouldn't have to separate any colors. Hah. Fang jokes are always the best kind of jokes.

I turned on the washing machine, watching it fill up with water. Then I poured the appropriate amount of soap into the cap and dumped it in. I didn't really know why the others couldn't manage the process of washing clothes - it was so easy. I mean, once, the Gasman had tried, but obviously he hadn't realized that there was in fact such a thing as _too much soap_. He asked me how to tell if you had too much soap, and I told him if the entire laundry room ever filled up with lavender smelling bubbles again YOU'VE ADDED TOO MUCH.

The kid could build perfectly calculated bombs and traps, but couldn't manage a soap/water ratio in the washing machine.

Sigh.

I was pretty sure everyone else was outside, stretching their wings and such. I could hear the occasional shout or loud laughter. It was good for them to unwind and relax, I admit. But I'd be damned if I had to do all the freaking chores around here. Honestly. What, did I _look _like a woman in the 1800s?

As I started throwing Fang's clothes into the machine, I saw something very…interesting.

Uh…

I slowly picked them up, touching them as little as possible. They were powder blue boxer briefs with little purple horizontal stripes.

I couldn't help it, okay?

I pictured Fang in them.

BADIDEABADIDEABADIDEA

"Dear Lord…"

I heard the others come inside and looked out into the kitchen. My eyes landed on my boyfriend. You know, the one who never wore anything with color on it _ever_. And yet here I was, holding these…horrid underpants.

_Horrid_.

I stared at the briefs in my hand, just kind of in shock at the whole thing. After a few minutes, something snapped me out of my shock.

"Whatcha doin'?" Fang asked from the doorway, grinning at me.

"What the fuck are these?" I asked in a terrified whisper.

"Underwear," Fang said. "I'm sure you've heard of it."

"Yeah, but why are they baby blue?" I demanded, raising an eyebrow. Because, hello, it was so unacceptable for Fang to own these. They were seriously not okay, not acceptable in any society ot situation _ever_. Like, when I picture Fang in underwear, it was totally not in a pair like this.

Not that I pictured Fang in his underwear.

No way.

Nope.

Jesus. "Fang, these need to go."

He looked at me oddly. "Okay?"

"Like, now. Here," I shoved them at him.

"No," Fang said.

"No?"

"Yeah, no," Fang said. "I don't want to touch those."

"But they're yours!" I said.

"Are you mental?" Fang asked and rolled his eyes. Just then, Ig walked into the laundry room. He walked up to Fang and I.

"What's up, guys?"

Fang grinned at me. "Max is trying to give me your underwear."

I recoiled. "His _what_?"

"Max, you dirty girl," Iggy laughed. He snatched the pair from my now limp grip, feeling the texture and the color. "Ooh, my lucky briefs. Looks like I don't have to go commando today after all. Excuse me."

I stared at Fang in shock. How long had I been holding Iggy's underwear in my hands?

Oh, my bad. I meant Iggy's _lucky _underwear.

I choked on my own spit. Fang rolled his eyes.

I slammed the washer closed and said, "I'm going to go wash my hands."

Fang just chuckled.

Then, I realized something. I turned around to look at him.

"Fang?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, leaning against the door. His smug grin made me want to spit.

"Why were Ig's lucky boxers in _your _basket?"

**A/N: I know it's short. My baaad. **

**Review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: omgggggggg. Seven weeks until my new story, **_**The Hardest Part**_**, is uploaded…excited? If you'd like a special sneak peek at my upcoming AH/AU story…go read my trilogy. (: **

**Btw… I GOT 900+ REVIEWS FOR CONSEQUENCES. What is my life? **

**Prompt: That awkward moment when Fang pushes his girlfriend out the window shirtless. **

"We can't do anything," I breathed, pushing on Fang's chest. He didn't listen, of course, and just pressed me harder into the couch, pushing up my tank top. "The others are right outside, Fang. Keep it in your pants."

"You know," he said, "you always have a reason for me to keep it in my pants."

I made an obvious face. "Yeah. I do."

"Stop searching for excuses, I know you want me."

I sighed and kissed him again. Then I turned my head to the side and focused my attention on the TV - even though, let's be real, most of my attention was still focused on the teenage boy laying on top of me.

It was the hottest day of the entire summer and our nice little house had no air conditioning. Well, according to the people supplying us this cute, two story safe-house, it had air conditioning. It just didn't work. Pointless.

So, our solution to the no-air dilemma was to open all the windows, hoping a breeze would come by and blow through the house.

The air was dead still. And fucking hot.

The others had gone outside to fly around. Gazzy said that if you fly really high up then fold in your wings and drop, the weather isn't so bad.

Great, solution there, Gaz. Seriously.

Fang and I were laying in the living room. I had on shorts and a tank top, he had on black shorts and no shirt. We were both covered in an uncomfortable layer of sweat. Not because we'd been having raunchy, under-aged fun in the living room - oh, no. Just because it was, like, a thousand degrees out. Bleh. And he wouldn't get off me.

"Fang, get off," I mumbled. His face was buried in my neck. The day was hot enough, without all the added weight and body heat.

Fang didn't answer me.

"Goddamn it, if you fell asleep…" I shoved his chest. Fang shifted but didn't get up.

"If you don't get off me, I'm going to hurt you," I said. Fang smirked against my bare shoulder.

"You can't hurt me."

So I kneed him.

Fang groaned and muttered, "Okay, whatever."

When he sat up, he grabbed my elbows and pulled me so our position was switched. I sighed. After watching three episodes of CSI and almost dozing off four times, I struggled to get off him and wandered into the kitchen. I filled a glass with water and gulped it down, feeling the chilled liquid travel down my throat.

Why couldn't the safe house have a pool?

Instead of going to lay down on Fang again, I made my way upstairs to our room. It was a small safe house we'd been given, with four bedrooms. We were only there for a few days. Since everyone knew that Fang and I slept in the same room anyways, we decided to let Nudge take over what would've been his room since she was at that age where privacy was the most important thing next to, like, makeup and curling irons.

I went into our room and shoved the window open. It changed nothing. No breeze, no cool air. It was just as miserable as it had been before I physically exerted myself by cranking open the window. Pfft.

Life's so hard.

Fang came into our room a second later. I could hear the others calling and laughing outside. Fang came up behind me and spun me around. I let him kiss me again even though it was way too hot for physical contact.

"You are doing nothing to help my overheating body," I groaned, letting his mouth move against my neck.

"Hm. We cold take a cold shower," Fang whispered.

"_You _should probably do that," I groaned. "It's too hot for all this touchy feely stuff, Fang."

He smirked. He lifted me up and set me down on my windowsill.

"There," he said, tracing his mouth against my neck again. "If a rare breeze comes by, you'll be the first to know."

I grinned at him. Fang kissed me, his lips parting against my own. I twisted my fingers into his belt loops and pulled him against me, wrapping my legs around him. His mouth pressed against mine harder, his fingers pulled my tank top over my head and discarded it somewhere in my room. Honestly, I felt better without all the extra fabric.

It was all going great until his body pressed against mine a bit too hard and-

Suddenly I was tumbling through the air.

And as suddenly as that happened, I _suddenly _crashed to the ground outside my window and _suddenly _landed on my arm in an awkward position.

"Shit," I groaned. Fang took one look out my window and started laughing his ass off.

"Max? What happened?" Nudge called, swooping down toward me.

"I told you, Max!" the Gasman called. "It feels a million times better while your free-falling!"

Shut up Gazzy.

"Where's your shirt?" Angel asked, landing next to me.

My arm hurt like hell. I gritted my teeth. I stared up at my window and cried, "Damn it, Fang!"

A second later my tank top fluttered down and landed beside me.

"You asshole! You broke my arm!" I yelled. I could hear his laughter. Hearing his laughter set off an orchestra of obnoxious laughter around me. No one helped me up. No one helped me put on my shirt.

Fang didn't even say sorry.

I laid in the yard until someone realized that my arm was actually broken. In two places.

Fang's a dick.

**A/N: Review.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey…so yeah. Here we are. **

**Prompt: That awkward moment when you accidentally break into your neighbor's house. **

"Let's race home," I said, swinging my legs on the branch I was sitting on. It was almost one in the morning. Fang looked at me from his tree.

"What do I get if I win?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. As if he would win. Pfft.

Oh, well. I could play along. I jumped from my branch to his and landed in front of him. I spread my wings to balance myself and leaned in close so my breath was on his face. His eyes were blazing as they stared into mine.

"Whatever…you…_want_," I breathed, shoving off the tree branch and shooting into the night sky. I knew, without turning around to look for him, Fang would be right on my tail. I smirked and poured on the speed, cutting through the chilly September air.

He just shouldn't even try to race Maximum Ride.

_Now where was the safe house again? _If it were possible to skid, mid-air, I did. Where the hell was I? All I could really remember about our latest temporary home was that it was nestled in the middle of a suburb. Sadly, moving from ordinary house to ordinary house at least twice a week made it hard to discern one home from the next.

Silly me, tempting Fang to race. Now I was all alone, sure he'd soared ahead of me by now - or maybe I'd already passed the house up? - and I had no idea where I was. I started scanning the neighborhood below.

"Shit," I mumbled, trying to remember our house and any outstanding qualities it might've possessed. It was white…I knew that for sure…and it had…some sort of…shutters…

I spun around in a full circle, looking for a familiar black spot in the sky. No dice. I was totally alone.

_Okay. Think Max_, I thought. _This is pathetic. Figure it out_.

We'd showed up at the safe house around 5 pm. Fang and I had scouted it out before dinner - we'd been on the edge of the neighborhood, the backyard opening up towards the forest. There was a pond at the entrance to the neighborhood, too.

Okay. Okay, progress. I started searching for the pond, knowing that would set it apart from all the other neighborhoods in town. I mean, how many neighborhoods really have ponds? You know?

I kept flying, observing the ground below me as I went. The night was still and tranquil, every window in every house was dimmed or darkened. There were a billion stars above me; the moon was full, the sky cloudless. It was a really pretty night.

_Could this be it? Is that a pond or a really shiny, moving section of pavement? _I swooped toward the mysterious could-be pond, hoping I'd accidentally stumbled upon our neighborhood by pure luck.

Jackpot! It was a pond, after all. I patted myself on the back appreciatively before weaving through the neighborhood, following the street, trying to find a house that looked familiar. The only problem was, every house was the same. Groan.

"Okay, on the edge of the neighborhood, backs up to the forest…" I flew towards the back of the suburb until I found a string of houses. Each one of their back yards opened up to a large, dense forest.

Now for the final test.

_ANGEL._

Nothing, for a moment. Then: _What the heck, Max? Where are you? _

I fist pumped the air. Thank God! I swooped down towards the house in front of me and went around back, to Fang's bedroom window. It was still wide open, how we'd left it. I smirked. I had beaten him home after all. I tucked in my wings and landed in Fang's bedroom. The lights were off.

Okay.

Um.

Maybe I hadn't beat Fang home.

There were two people in his bed, shoving their tongues down each others' throats. Furious - and confused - I cleared my throat angrily, crossing my arms. What the fuck? I could tell even in the darkness that the boy was not Fang. Fang was not that skinny. Or pale. Or blonde.

Or, ahem, that _stupid_.

The girl screamed when she heard me clear my throat. The dude fumbled for a lamp. Silly kid. There wasn't a lamp by Fang's bed -

Oh.

So, there was a lamp by _this _bed. Except, um, _this _bed was not _Fang's _bed.

THAT IS A VERY IMPORTANT DETAIL.

This was not Fang's room. The walls were hot pink, for crying out loud. Shit, shit, shit-

The two people in the bed freaked and covered themselves up. I mean, they weren't naked, but they must've _felt _violated. I noticed that they were just teens, probably fifteen or sixteen. The door across the room busted open, and two adults stood in the doorway. A man, who was wearing a plaid robe and holding a wooden baseball bat and a woman wearing a night gown and a sleeping mask.

"Tammy, what is -"

I covered my mouth, realizing what was going on. Oh, damn.

"Tamara! Who is that boy!" The father ran towards the bed, swinging the bat, and the kid in the girl's bed got up and started looking for his shirt and shoes. The girl sat up in her bed, wearing a look of fear, and clutched her blanket to her chest.

"Daddy, stop! Stop it!" she screeched.

I just stood back and watched, totally forgotten by everyone in the room. The teenage boy dove out the window next to me and that snapped me out of it. I should probably ditch, too-

"That girl just broke into my room, _would you quite chasing my boyfriend with a fucking bat_!"

The girl's father stopped and looked at her in shock. Her mother, who was still standing in the doorway - and oddly quiet up until this point - screamed bloody freaking murder and pointed at me like I was a ghost. Like, excuse me lady, but a little respect for people with mutant hearing. Kay, thanks.

The father swung his bat at me and I dodged it and kicked him in the stomach. He fell. Oops.

I sighed. "What a dick. You don't swing a bat at a teenage girl. Am I right?" They stared at me, speechless.

_Max, really, _I heard Angel think. _Where are you? Are you in trouble? _

_Angel! _I spun around and looked out the window.

Do you know what I fucking saw?

Fang.

In his window.

Smirking.

He held up a piece of paper:

_I win_.

**A/N: Review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Oh, my gosh guys. Guess how long it's been since I sat down and wrote ANYTHING? **

**A looooooong time. **

**School is insane, AP classes are insane, **_**I'm **_**probably a little insane…**

**Writer's block is my life. But I think I'm maybe close to being almost ready for September 21****st****. **

**I read an amazing book. It's called **_**This is Not a Test**_**, and it's about zombies. Except not really. It has zombies, but it's really about a depressed girl named Sloane. Just, trust me on this one. It's a good read.**

**Also, I recently read **_**Into the Wild **_**by Jon Krakauer. It's really cool, too. **

**Prompt: That awkward moment when your hands are down Max's pants and you aren't Fang.**

Iggy heard Max huff in exasperation. There was the sound of her worn-out sneaker scraping against the cave floor, then the hollow sound of a pebble hitting the rock wall next to him.

"This'll have to do," she mumbled.

"It's vulnerable," Fang responded, his voice low. Iggy tapped his fingers on his knee idly as the others stood around, waiting for Leader and Second-in-Command to come to an agreement.

"We've already searched the area. This is the best we've got. It's going to rain and this is the only shelter that'll keep us dry," Max reasoned. "It's just for one night."

Fang must've nodded or something, because Max turned her attention to the rest of the group and said, "Okay, guys. This is home for the next eight hours. Get to sleep, we're leaving early."

As the younger kids started to doze off, Max came over and sat next to Iggy, her knee against his. She sighed. "Fang's mad."

"Why?" Iggy said, grazing his fingers over the ground. They clasped around a pebble and he started running his fingers over the smooth, cool surface.

"Because we're here," she said softly. "He's not convinced that we're in the clear. He wanted us to keep going…"

"Go to sleep," Iggy said. Max's head fell heavily against his shoulder in response.

After a couple minutes, when Max still hadn't fallen asleep, Iggy said, "Maybe Fang's mad because he hasn't gotten laid in a while."

"Go away, you dick," Max grumbled. She lifted her head from his shoulder but laid down right next to him, her head by his legs. Iggy chuckled and she punched his leg.

"Is that it, buddy?" Iggy whispered loudly to Fang. "Max ain't puttin' out anymore?"

Silence.

"He's flipping me off, isn't he?"

"Yup," Max said.

"You are, too, aren't you?"

"Yup."

Iggy rested his head back against the cave wall. As the silence continued, he could feel Max's tension. He put his hand on her back and started to rub her shoulders, feeling her muscles relax gradually. Even that didn't get her to sleep.

Finally, Iggy stood and went in Fang's direction. He carefully stepped over the Gasman - his snoring had saved him from being trampled by Iggy a million times - and sat down next to Fang on the ledge.

"I got watch," Iggy said, nudging Fang with his elbow.

Fang didn't say anything.

Iggy knew what would get him to get up. "She isn't going to get any sleep that way," Iggy said.

Fang sighed. "Fine."

He heard Fang get up and bodies shuffling as he laid down by Max and they got comfortable. The minutes ticked by as Iggy let his ears take reign. After almost an hour, Max and Fang's soft talking dissolved into soft, even breathing.

Point for the Igster.

Hours passed, and though Iggy felt like waking Max up for watch, he knew she couldn't take it. She needed sleep. He also knew that if he woke Fang for watch, Max would just get up, too. That left Iggy staying up all night. Which would've been fine, but really - pulling an all-nighter by yourself isn't as fun as when the whole group does it.

Iggy could tell it was getting earlier. Slowly, the world came to life around him. He could hear bird chirping distantly. If he listened close enough, he could even hear cars miles away in the town they were close to. Soon, he knew he'd feel the warmth of the sun on his arms. He wondered when he should wake everyone up.

"Hey, Ig," Gazzy said groggily. Iggy turned his head as the kid sat up, yawned and scooted across the cave floor to sit by him.

"Hey, dude," Iggy said, popping his neck and yawning himself. "You're the first one up."

" 'sides you," Gazzy mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. "Hey, I was thinking…if we could somehow get the credit card from Max's stuff…we could restock up on bomb supplies."

Iggy chewed on this genius idea for a moment. "What time do you think it is, man?"

"Four," Gazzy said definitively. "It isn't even light outside yet. We could totally make it there and back in seconds."

"We can't leave the others without someone on watch," Iggy said. "But we could take the card now and sneak away later…"

Gazzy rubbed his palms together in excitement. Iggy heard his wings flutter anxiously.

"It's not in her pack," Gazzy whispered. "Yesterday she used it to buy dinner and put it in her pocket."

Iggy sighed and stood up.

"Come on."

They silently walked deeper into the cave. Gazzy yanked Iggy back at the last second before he stepped on Nudge's wrist - she wasn't as loud a sleeper as Gazzy. When they reached Max and Fang, Iggy told Gaz to give him the situation.

"She's between Fang and the wall, facing Fang. This is gonna be tough."

"Front of back pocket?"

"Uh…"

Iggy scowled. "Way to pay attention, bonehead. Now I have to dig in all four of her pockets."

"I think it was the back," Gazzy said unsurely.

Iggy sighed and kneeled down. He scooted as close as he could before his knees made contact with the couples' entangled feet. Slowly, Iggy's hands moved toward what he hoped was Max.

"Uh, to the left, Ig. Unless you want to search Fang, first."

Iggy huffed. "Where, Gaz?"

"Up a little…okay, down a little…go left… here, let me show you." Gazzy grabbed Iggy's hands and placed them on Max's waist.

She shifted.

"Goddamn it, Gaz," Iggy hissed. "You practically made me punch her. Now shut the hell up and tell me if they start to wake up."

"Okay, okay," Gazzy said nervously.

Iggy felt the waistband of Max's jeans and slowly moved his hands down. He felt the opening of her back pocket and stealthily slid his fingers into the pocket.

Nothing.

"Gazzy," Iggy murmured with annoyance.

"Okay, maybe it was the front," Gazzy said quietly. "Try the front."

Iggy sighed. He hoped it was the front, too, or else they'd have to roll her over. She would obviously wake up for that.

Why hadn't she woken up to _this_?

Iggy slid his hand to the front of Max's jeans and slowly wiggled his fingers into her front pocket.

"Fang, weren't you at least going to wake me up first?" she murmured. Iggy recoiled.

"Ew. _Gross_, Max!"

He heard Max gasp. "Iggy, get off!"

"You pervert! You were awake the whole time!" Iggy sat back on his heels.

"What are you _doing_?" she demanded. Now Fang was awake, as well as all the others. What a big spectacle.

"What's goin' on?" Fang murmured, sitting up.

"Max was going to get it on with you, with all of us laying in the same freaking room!" Iggy cried incredulously.

"We're in a cave," Nudge said, moving towards them. "What are you doing?"

"Iggy had his hands down my pants!"

"No, I _didn't_, you liar!"

"We were just trying to steal your credit card!" Gazzy said in exasperation.

"So you had to _feel me up _to find my pocket?" Max asked angrily.

"I'm blind! I don't exactly know what I'm doing with my hands!" Iggy spluttered.

Em-bar-ass-ing. Right?

"Then why didn't Gazzy do it? Huh?"

Max had him stumped there.

"Huh," Iggy said finally. "That's a good point. We should've thought of that."

Fang snorted. "Going back to sleep," he said.

"Me too," Max sighed, lying down. Nudge crawled back over to Angel, and they started talking quietly.

Iggy sighed. He didn't like being blind. It made him to uncomfortable and weird things. It wasn't like he meant to make things awkward. He just…did.

"Why were trying to steal my credit card?" Max asked after a second.

"Why was it okay for Fang to rape you in your sleep?" Iggy responded immediately.

"And," Gazzy added with a giggle, "why were you not stopping him?"

"See, these are the questions that we should be contemplating," Iggy said philosophically.

Max made an aggravated sound. Iggy and Gazzy had once again dodged a bullet-

"Bomb supplies?"

Busted.

**A/N: Long time, no review. Let's talk. **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: GOOD NEWSSSSSS.**

**So, it looks like I will be uploading **_**The Hardest Part **_**earlier than expected. The new release for that **_**should **_**be on September 8****th****. Hurray! Two weeks in advance!**

**So, I'm not saying this commercial inspired this one-shot, but….there's an oil commercial that says the car is a "baby maker". Um, okay. **

**Prompt: That awkward moment when Dr. Martinez goes snooping. **

FANG

"Thanks again, Fang," Dr. Martinez said as she slid into the passenger seat of his car. She pulled the car door closed and sat back in the leather seat.

"Least I could do," Fang said. She had gone through the trouble of buying him the car, anyways. He couldn't refuse to drive her to work.

Two years ago, when he, Iggy and Max turned sixteen, she'd tried to teach Max and Fang to drive. After it became blatantly obvious that Max was not meant to be behind the wheel, Dr. M continued teaching Fang until he got his license. Now, he was the flock's chauffer. Yay.

"I don't know what's wrong with the van," she sighed, setting her briefcase on her lap and buckling her seatbelt. "I had to drop it off at the shop again yesterday, and they said I'll be without a car for at least a week."

Fang frowned, but didn't say anything. Not that that surprised Dr. Martinez.

The ride to Dr. Martinez's clinic was quiet. He would've turned on the radio, but he'd heard in the past the kind of music she liked. Let's just say they did not have the same taste in music.

Fang was only five minutes from the doctor's vet when she went into a violent sneezing fit. He glanced at her, alarmed.

"Allergies?"

"They're horrible in the fall," she said. "Do you have tissues?"

Fang shrugged, pointing at the glove box. "In there, maybe."

Dr. Martinez leaned forward and pulled open the compartment, looking for tissues or napkins or something.

Well, anything but what she found. Beneath a few straws and napkins from various fast food places, she found something very peculiar.

Wordlessly - she figured words would just be inadequate in this situation - she held the small foil package up in Fang's line of vision.

"Uh," Fang wasn't sure what to say. What do you say when your girlfriend's mom holds a condom in front of your face?

"Fang," she began sternly.

"That's not even mine!" Fang insisted immediately. Even though, let's be honest, who's else would it have been? It was _Fang's _car.

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

"What? I didn't even say that." Fang didn't understand how women could automatically jump to crazy conclusions like that. He tried to subtly speed up so they wouldn't have to suffer through this conversation.

"Slow down!" Dr. Martinez quickly scolded him. He frowned. He lightly eased up on the gas. "I wasn't born yesterday, Fang. I know what this is."

She stared at him. He glanced warily at her. "I…don't?"

That set her off.

"I bought you this car, Fang, because I thought you were responsible!"

He decided not to point out that it would be less responsible to _not _use protection. For obvious reasons.

"Not because I thought you needed a…a…place to screw my daughter!"

What. The. Hell.

Fang didn't even know what to say. He felt like any response in this situation was a bad one.

"I can't believe the two of you would be so irresponsible!"

There was that word again. Fang wondered why it was irresponsible to always have a back-up. Just saying.

"What kind of example are you two setting for the others?"

It was not like they broadcasted their activities to the world. Max could barely handle kissing in front of an open window. Fang tried to get Dr. M to see his way, he really did.

"Dr. Martinez-"

She looked distressed. "I mean, it's not secret that you and my daughter are intimate." Now _Fang _was distressed. I rubbed his forehead, considering running the car into a lamppost just so she would stop talking. "I just think that the two of you need to be a bit smarter, and bit more…conservative. What if Nudge had found this? Gazzy? Huh?"

Fang groaned. Finally, the vet's building was in sight. Fang sped up, rolling through a stop sign, and eventually ended up in the parking lot.

Dr. Martinez sighed. It was almost pointless to scold him, since she knew she wouldn't get a response out of him.

Fang looked up at her as she got out.

"Just so we're clear - you're angry because I _haven't _knocked Max up yet?" Fang raised an eyebrow.

Dr. Martinez looked affronted. "I…I think you know just how I'd react to that news." Judging by her reaction to the condom in his glove box, _not well_. "I'm sure we don't need to worry about that for a _long _time. Right?"

Fang grimaced. "…Have a good day."

Dr. Martinez stared him down for a second before shutting the passenger door and walking into the clinic. Fang drove home as quickly as he could. When he finally got home, he parked the car and went inside. Max was lying on the couch.

"Hey," Max called.

He kissed her on his way through the living room. He went down the hall, pushing open the last bedroom door.

"Hey."

"Next time I let you and Ella borrow my car, don't leave me fucking souvenirs." Fang said sourly.

Iggy smirked. "Who found it. Nudge?"

"_Dr. Martinez_."

Iggy leaned back against his pillow, shoving his earbuds into his ears. "Priceless."

**A/N: Yup. There it is. Review!**


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